I want to be excited and happy and full of anticipation as my son embarks on his new kindergarten adventure next week. I want to infuse his upcoming birthday party with joy and cupcakes. Instead, I’m ambivalent. Tired. Going through the motions. My gardens are full of weeds and grasses, my to-do list keeps growing, and I can find zero fucks to give.

Perversely, my fatigue and apathy drive me to stay awake later, and eat poorly, which results in a poor night’s sleep, which deepens the fatigue, which helps keep the cycle going. This has been the pattern for a few days now — last night, I didn’t turn the lights out until after 11:30pm, which is well past my bedtime. I just didn’t care.

I’m recognizing it. It’s like I’m seeing myself from outside myself, willing myself to bust out, cheering myself on. This evening, while my son was bathing, I busted out some crunches and push-ups in an effort to get myself in a better headspace (and out of my smartphone). It kind of worked. It did something.

My plan for tonight (having already gorged on carbohydrates of various kinds) is to finish writing this, wait for Connor to ask for a foot massage and to talk, take care of some nightly clean-up in the kitchen, maybe take a swag at my to-do list, then go into the sunroom (where I haven’t relaxed for weeks) and chill with a magazine. Then, I’ll head upstairs around dusk and spend some quality time cleansing my face and whatnot, to continue the relaxation theme. If I’m not too tired, maybe I’ll do ten minutes of yoga before tucking into my graphic novel cookbook for a bit, then turning out the lights just after ten. That should leave me rejuvenated for a conference with Connor’s kindergarten teacher in the morning.

I have a plan. This is a step in the right direction. Executing that plan will be the next step.

Yes, I have to consciously work toward treating myself right. Lizard Brain doesn’t know shit about treating me right, and if I don’t plan ahead, that’s who ends up driving the bus.